


My Heart on Your Sleeve

by HotAndColdAF



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18525961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotAndColdAF/pseuds/HotAndColdAF
Summary: For most people, having a soulmate simplifies things. For Shiro, it makes things much, much more complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The way soulmarks work in this AU was inspired by this post: http://tinybro.tumblr.com/post/156785968808/a-random-soulmate-au-idea-i-had-where-a-person

As soon as Ulaz had been called in to examine a new prisoner, he was on his guard. This was far from routine. Any knowledge necessary to keep a prisoner alive could typically be gleaned from scans with basic equipment, so to get an actual medical officer involved was considered a flagrant waste of resources. Either this new prisoner was very special or Ulaz was being tested somehow. The latter seemed likely, given that he had been sent for specifically. That was also far from routine and immensely suspicious. Truthfully, he couldn't understand it at all. He racked his brain over recent events, trying to pinpoint anything he might've done to bring himself under such scrutiny, and yet nothing came to mind. He'd been going about his business exactly as he'd been doing for thousands of years. He hadn't even made a new report to Kolivan recently. And if nothing new had occurred on his end to bring forth this suspicion, that meant something new had likely occurred with the Empire. He was going into this with no idea what to expect or how to defend himself. He didn't care for it one bit.

The situation just became more and more unusual as he entered the examination room. There was a Druid in the room, rather than a medical officer or commander like he would've expected. And the prisoner he was to examine, laid out on the examination table, was unconscious and fully naked. The former confirmed that this examination was actually intended to be an examination, or, at least, that "examination" wasn't just a novel way of saying "torture session." The latter was simply... strange. Prisoners were generally kept clothed as much as possible, mostly due to general distaste for their alien forms and anatomy, and if clothing was going to get in the way of a medical procedure, they would simply cut it away and have it replaced later. To do otherwise, especially to this extent, was just bizarre.

It did put on display how impressively tattooed the prisoner was, Ulaz supposed. His entire right arm was covered from the wrist to shoulder in various images, and from there they spilled most of the way across his torso and partially down his right leg. Ulaz was curious about what they were, exactly, but he didn't dare take a closer look before he addressed the Druid.

"What needs to be examined?"

"Take a look at his markings."

Now that he'd been directed to, Ulaz drew closer and immediately began to understand why this prisoner had caught the Druids' attention. He recognized all the imagery drawn into his skin and much of it was specific to Galra culture, some even going so far as to be specific to life on Daibazaal, even though he didn't appear to be even remotely Galra. It wouldn't be impossible for him to be of mixed heritage, but even that wouldn't explain why he would mark himself so thoroughly with the imagery of a culture that would reject him.

...It also didn't explain why Ulaz had been called in for an examination. He looked back at the Druid for further direction. "They are very strange, but I don't understand how they merit a medical examination."

"The subject claims he was born with these markings," the Druid explained. "We want you to take a skin sample to verify whether or not that claim is true."

It seemed an obviously false claim to Ulaz, but he was hardly going to argue with the Druid. He took his scalpel out, only for the Druid to stop him before he could make his incision.

"Take it from his back," it ordered. Ulaz didn't understand why that was necessary, but he wasn't about to argue, and so he flipped the prisoner over, only for his blood to run cold at what he saw. There, drawn in life size, was a perfect reproduction of Ulaz's own sword, straight down to the Blade of Marmora emblem embedded in the hilt. Looking at it made him feel dizzy. This was impossible. It made no sense. He had never seen this creature or any like him in his entire life; there was neither means nor reason for him to have his sword tattooed on his back like this, and yet there it was.

"Is something the matter?" the Druid asked, and Ulaz fought to keep his movements steady and regular as he shook his head in response. If they were certain who these markings implicated, he would've been attacked directly instead of being put through this farce. Now that he knew the markings indicated him specifically, it was obvious what was happening. Ulaz hadn't thought much of the pictures of medical equipment mixed in with the rest before--such equipment was fairly universal, not as strange as the more Galra-specific images--but now they provided the perfect explanation for why he had been called in. The tattoos painted a picture of a Galra with medical experience, old enough to remember life on Daibazaal. There weren't many in the fleet who fit that description, but at least Ulaz was not the only one. That meant as long as he didn't give himself away right now, he still had time to figure out what to do about this while they put the other medics that fit that profile through the same test. Not a very _long_ time, but at least it was something.

"I was simply surprised by the sword. It's not like the other images. I don't understand what it could mean," Ulaz offered to explain himself. It wasn't even technically a lie.

"That is no concern of yours," the Druid answered and Ulaz nodded in response.

"Of course." He continued his work in silence, removing a small section of skin along the edge of the blade and placing it in a small container. "Where shall I take this?" he asked, and the Druid held out its hand in response.

"We will take care of it," it said, and Ulaz nodded again before handing over the sample. They had no intention of actually analyzing it, he was sure. "You are dismissed," it continued, and Ulaz saluted and left.

The Druid had not given Ulaz any identifying information on the prisoner, likely purposefully, and Ulaz checked very carefully to make sure he wasn't being watched before he began looking through the prisoner files to find him himself. He was of a species that Ulaz had never seen before, so it didn't take long to recognize him in the list of recent transfers. Apparently he had been captured in a distant system, outside the Empire's actual borders, and somewhere Ulaz had never even been near at any point in his long life. The mystery only grew deeper, and it seemed the only way Ulaz would find any answers was by asking him directly. He made note of the cell where the prisoner was being held and did some quick mental math to determine when the best time to go there was. It was possible, even likely, that this was a trap, and even if it wasn't, this curious prisoner was sure to be closely guarded, but that was a risk Ulaz would have to take. He needed to know how this strange alien had such thorough information on him and how much of a risk he was to the rest of the Blade. It was bad enough that this signaled the sudden end of his thousands of years of undercover work, but it would be even worse if other agents were compromised, too.

Ulaz carefully avoided crossing the patrol paths of any sentries as he made his way to the prisoner's cell, which he found unguarded. That wouldn't be noteworthy for any typical prisoner, but in this case, it felt suspicious.

Ulaz opened the door and slipped inside anyway, dropping into a crouch so he wouldn't be visible through the viewport set into the door. Thankfully the prisoner was actually present, and unlike earlier, he was both dressed and alert. He'd had himself tucked into a corner when Ulaz entered, but now he was standing up.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and Ulaz gestured for him to sit back down.

"I am not supposed to be here," he answered. "Keep your voice down and stay still."

The prisoner looked dubious, but sat back down. "That doesn't answer my question."

"I need you to explain where you got those tattoos," Ulaz said, and the prisoner's expression immediately turned harsh.

"It doesn't matter how many times you people ask me, the answer's not going to change. They're not tattoos. I was born with them and I don't know what they mean, just that they're supposed to represent a person who's going to be very important to me. All humans have marks like that. It's natural. How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?"

It was no wonder he'd been asked about it so much; Ulaz had never heard of such a thing even in all his extensive experience. "Important how?" he pressed. The prisoner--human, apparently?--looked mildly surprised at that. Probably the Druids had not bothered to ask for such clarification.

"...Typically it's romantic," he explained after a pause, an unsure look on his face. Ulaz stared blankly at him in shock. The very idea was ridiculous, unthinkable, completely bizarre. That this alien could ever fall in love with him considering their respective positions. That he could feel the same. And especially that some quirk of biology could predict such a thing ahead of time. It was all so clearly impossible and yet he could detect no dishonesty nor think of any alternate explanation.

The human clearly took his blank look to mean something else, and his expression turned flat and judgemental. "Do you know what 'romantic' means? I've gotten the impression that your people aren't very big on caring about othe--"

He immediately stopped speaking and flinched back in fear when Ulaz pulled his blade from where it was hidden in his boot, but when Ulaz extended the sword to its full size, his eyes went wide with recognition and surprise, and he stared at it and then at Ulaz with a kind of reverent awe that made the Galra's skin crawl.

The human didn't seem to notice his discomfort as he leaned forward and began speaking with rapid excitement. "You're-- Are you really-- Where did you come from? How did you know to find me? I-- My name's Shiro, what's yours?"

Ulaz fought off the urge to physically recoil as he responded. "I am Ulaz. We do not have time for an extended conversation right now. We have to leave."

"Ulaz," Shiro repeated, like the name alone was a gift beyond value, and then he nodded firmly. "Right, of course. Lead the way."

Ulaz couldn't get a good view of the hallway outside the cell through the small viewport in the door, so he opened the door and stuck his head out cautiously--

\--Only to pull back immediately in order to dodge a blast of magic from a Druid down the hall.

"It's a trap," he growled as gunfire began flooding the hallway.

"Do you have a gun?" Shiro asked.

"No," Ulaz answered. "They will have to come to us. Get away from the door." Shiro pulled away into a corner adjacent to the door while Ulaz listened to the steps of the sentries approaching. When they reached the doorway, he was ready for them, launching himself out into the hallway to strike them down before they could turn their fire into the cell.

"Look out!" he heard Shiro shout from behind him, and he turned in time to see the human attempting to tackle the Druid, which only managed to unbalance it just enough for its magic to go wide and miss Ulaz. It pulled Shiro off itself and threw him against the wall, hard enough that he bounced. By then, Ulaz was already rushing it, but it teleported away before he could reach it, leaving him swinging at empty air. It reappeared further down the hallway and began preparing another blast of magic, and Ulaz suddenly felt keenly aware of just how little room he had to dodge in.

"Move!" he heard Shiro shout, and Ulaz immediately threw himself against the wall at the command. A salvo of gunfire shot by him, exploding on contact with the Druid's magic. When the smoke cleared, the Druid was nowhere to be seen, though Ulaz was not so optimistic as to believe that it was dead.

"What _was_ that thing?" Shiro asked as he got to his feet, the rifle he'd pulled from one of the felled sentries still in his hands.

"A Druid," Ulaz answered. "We need to leave before it comes back. They'll be expecting us to take an escape pod, but we'll take a fighter instead. Come on!"

They encountered a few more sentries along the way to the hangar, but the Druid did not resurface, so between Ulaz's blade and Shiro's gun, they were swiftly dispatched. The hangar was filled with more sentries, even more than Ulaz was expecting. He abruptly realized he may have miscalculated, but it was too late to change gears now, so he slung Shiro over his shoulder and made a run for it. Shiro let out a startled cry at being picked up so suddenly without any warning, but Ulaz had to admit he was a very adaptable person, as he started firing on the sentries that pursued them soon thereafter. Reaching the nearest ship was one thing, but climbing the fighter in his medical uniform while carrying another person was not the easiest thing Ulaz had ever done, and the gunfire from the sentries wasn't helping any.

"They're getting into the other ships, so you might want to hurry it up!" Shiro yelled between his shots. Thankfully, it wasn't much farther to the fighter's entry hatch. Ulaz dropped Shiro behind the pilot's seat before he slipped into the chair himself and began activating the ship.

"Isn't there another chair in here?" Shiro asked, glancing around the interior.

"No," Ulaz answered bluntly. Shiro then turned his attention to the pilot seat and its controls.

"...Wait, does your seat not even have a safety harness?" he asked again. There was an incredulous quality to his voice, though Ulaz couldn't understand why.

"What are you talking about?"

"How do you conquer most of the known universe without inventing the _safety harness_?!" Shiro exclaimed, but any further protest was cut off by the ship launching. The other fighters launched soon on their heels, and Ulaz found himself saddled with the unenviable task of trying to outmaneuver enemy fire. He had developed and refined many skills over the course of his long life. Piloting beyond the basic necessities was not one of them. His instincts were serving well enough to keep them alive, but escape was going to be another matter entirely.

"They're flying the same kind of ship we are. You're not going to be able to outrun them, you're going to have to outfly them," Shiro said.

"That is easier said than done," Ulaz replied through gritted teeth.

"Then let me handle it. I can do it."

"You have never flown one of these before in your life."

"I'm the best pilot Earth has and I can already tell the basics are close enough. I can do this. Ulaz, please, just trust me."

Reckless didn't _begin_ to describe it, and yet, as Ulaz spared a glance in Shiro's direction, as he looked at the calmly determined look on his face, his gut instinct was to trust in his claims. There wasn't enough time to actually switch their positions, and so with a frustrated growl, Ulaz reached over and pulled Shiro into his lap. At least this way if Shiro proved unable to deliver on his promise, he could retake the controls easily enough.

Shiro let out another surprised noise at being manhandled again, but again he proved himself adaptable and took the controls. Ulaz grew uncertain with his decision as the ship veered about wildly under Shiro's control, but he had to admit none of the enemy shots were connecting, and he could hear Shiro laugh to himself as he turned the ship this way and that.

"This thing flies like a _dream_ compared to some of the ships we've got on Earth," Shiro said, with delight audible in his voice. "I'm flying circles around these guys, but it looks like they still don't want to give up the chase."

"They won't," Ulaz answered. "You'll have to shoot them down."

Shiro went silent and still for a moment and then gave a firm nod. "How do I do that?"

Ulaz placed his hands over Shiro's on the controls and pushed his thumbs toward the buttons on the sides. "These buttons will fire the lasers. Hold them down for sustained fire."

Shiro nodded again and opened fire on their pursuers. His aim was true, despite his lack of familiarity with the system, and he managed to take them all out without their own fighter sustaining any damage. Once the last enemy had been reduced to scrap, he let go of the controls, leaned back in his seat, and let out a long sigh.

Ulaz cleared his throat, and that was when Shiro apparently remembered that his seat was actually another person. He scrambled out of Ulaz's lap and back onto his feet with a hasty apology and followed it up with, "I'll let you handle the flying from here. You know where we need to go."

Ulaz keyed in the directions for the autopilot and then stood up to approach Shiro. The human was sitting in the far corner of the ship with his right sleeve rolled up so he could look over the markings there. This was the first chance Ulaz had to really evaluate how he looked without any other distractions. His skin, where it wasn't covered by the markings, was a middling sort of beige, without any scales or fur to be found, save for the hair on the top of his head, which was a solid black. He was much smaller than any average Galra, with shorter limbs, though the tightness of the prisoner uniform showed that he was at least muscular and fit despite that. He wasn't _hideous_ , Ulaz supposed, but it was hard to imagine that he ever would've considered his attractiveness at all if he hadn't had the thought already put in his head.

Shiro noticed him watching and looked up at him with a cautious smile. "Do we have time to talk now?"

"Yes," Ulaz answered, taking a seat of his own on the floor nearby. "Tell me more about these markings."

"They're called soulmarks. The person they indicate, we refer to as a soulmate. It's supposed to be the person you'll meet in life who you're most compatible with. Usually that means romantically, but not always. It's less precise than a lot of people think it is. There are actually a lot of cases where someone's soulmate is soulmates with someone else, or they meet them without ever realizing it, or their soulmate dies young, or... all kinds of problems." Shiro broke eye contact and looked back down at his exposed arm. "I've done a lot of research into it, trying to make sense of it all. My situation's always been pretty obviously exceptional. The soulmark fills in gradually as your soulmate gains life experiences, and even if your soulmate lives for a long time, the soulmark doesn't usually make it up past the shoulder. So when I was born halfway covered in these alien images, it was a pretty big shock to my parents. How old are you, anyway?"

"I am a little over 11,000 years old," Ulaz answered. Shiro let out a low whistle.

"Humans don't usually make it past 100. Is 11,000 a lot for your species?"

"It is not young," was Ulaz's flat response, and Shiro winced.

"...Right, that was a rude question, I'm sorry. In any case, my soulmark's been a big mystery my entire life. I've always wondered what it all could mean, and now I can finally get some answers. You don't know how relieved I am to finally meet you, Ulaz. There's so much I want to ask you, I can hardly think of where to start. I want to know the meaning behind every detail. Where you're from, what you like, what your dreams for the future are."

Ulaz's displeasure at the very thought of sharing all those intimate details must've shown on his face, because Shiro's eager expression quickly fell to trepidation. "I'm freaking you out," he observed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strongly. I'm not even looking for a relationship right now, I swear. I just..." His gaze fell back down to his arm, and he rotated it so he could see more of the images wrapped around it. "I've waited so long for this. I know it all must seem pretty weird to you, but I--I can't tell you how important this is to me." He sighed and began rolling his sleeve back down over his arm. "Still, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. You don't have to tell me anything, if you don't want to." They fell to awkward silence as Ulaz tried to process this strange and ridiculous situation he had somehow found himself in, and in the end, it was Shiro who broke the silence.

"Where are we headed?" he asked.

Now this was a question Ulaz was actually comfortable answering. "We are going to the Blade of Marmora headquarters. Our leader will decide what to do with you."

"What's the Blade of Marmora?"

That was, technically speaking, a question Ulaz shouldn't answer, but it would be ridiculous to try and obfuscate it by this point, so he answered it plainly. "We are a rebel group dedicated to dismantling Zarkon's empire from the inside."

"You're a spy," Shiro concluded, and then his eyes quickly grew wide with horror. "I blew your cover. I'm so sorry, Ulaz. I promise I'll do whatever I can to help your cause. I'll make myself useful."

"Whether or not you can be useful is for our leader to decide. He will not be happy about this." To say the least. Ulaz had been well entrenched in the Empire's ranks, and his position had made him an important source of information for the Blade, information that would be difficult to acquire otherwise. The only way Kolivan could be more displeased about losing that would be if Ulaz had also died in the process.

"I'm _going_ to be useful. If your leader won't let me help, then I'll go somewhere else and find someone who will. I'll fight the Empire by myself if I have to. I've seen enough to know they need to be stopped, no matter the cost. I'll do whatever it takes to put an end to the misery I saw in those cells, whether I have your leader's support or not."

And as Shiro stared at him with a hard and determined look in his eyes, Ulaz found that he believed him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kind comments and kudos so far! I'm sorry I'm such a slow writer, but I hope you'll continue to stick with me. <3

A warm, hearty scent greeted Shiro as he entered the apartment he shared with Adam. He knew that smell. That was the stew Adam always made when he was mad about something. He'd explained it once, the specifics of how it helped calm him down, but Shiro hadn't really gotten it. Cooking was always so stressful for _him_ that it was hard to understand what made it relaxing for Adam. But somehow it was, and it was rare that Adam stayed mad once he'd made his stew. Which was good, because Adam had definitely been very angry with him when they last spoke earlier that day.

With a smile, Shiro made his way into the kitchen, and sure enough, there was Adam, stirring a large pot, with his uniform jacket off and his sleeves pushed up. Shiro used to love seeing Adam's soulmark, seeing the symbols on his arm and being able to immediately place how they related to him and his accomplishments, such a contrast to the inscrutable mysteries that made up his own markings. His diagnosis had changed that. Noticing new additions to Adam's soulmark had always been exciting before then, but finding a ring of what _looked_ like necrotic tissue around Adam's arm that night had been almost as devastating as the diagnosis itself.

Shiro didn't know how Adam could stand to even look at it, even if he knew it was only cosmetic and not actually hurting him in any way. Personally, he hated the sight of it. It and everything it represented. Sudden, life-changing events were often represented in soulmarks by rings like that, cutting off everything that came before from everything that came after, and the ring on Adam's arm was a particularly ugly reminder that his life was over.

Shiro's smile faltered at the sight of it, but he approached Adam anyway, slipping his arms around his waist and placing his chin on Adam's shoulder.

"It smells great," he said.

Adam shrugged him off and Shiro pulled away.

"You're still mad?" he asked. If the stew hadn't worked, then this was worse than he'd realized.

"Yes, I'm still mad," Adam answered with a huff, keeping his gaze fixed on the pot instead of Shiro.

Shiro huffed back. "Why can't you understand how important this is to me?"

"I understand just fine. You're the one who doesn't get it." Adam used his spoon to push some vegetables down into the broth with what Shiro was sure was far more force than necessary. "Not that I expect you to, at this point. You're going to go no matter what I say. Your soulmark is proof of that."

Shiro wasn't sure how to respond to that at first. Was that what this was all about? It was true that the Kerberos mission would be his last, best chance to find his soulmate, and Shiro would be lying if he said that fact hadn't occurred to him, but that wasn't why he was so determined to stay on the mission despite his diagnosis, and he'd thought Adam understood that. Apparently, though, he needed to be reminded.

"Adam. Look at me."

With a sigh, Adam set his spoon down and finally turned to face Shiro. He had such a dour look on his face, Shiro hated it. Adam always used to smile so much and so brightly, but those smiles had gotten rarer and rarer since Shiro's diagnosis. Shiro missed them. He placed his hands firmly on Adam's shoulders and hoped his face made it clear how sincerely he meant what he was about to say.

"When I get back from Kerberos, marry me." Adam's eyes went wide with shock, but Shiro pressed on. "I was going to wait until after the mission to ask, but you need to hear this now. I'm not doing this to find my soulmate. It doesn't matter who I meet out there, I swear, I'm not going to throw away what we have for him."

Adam's shocked expression twisted into something affronted and furious, a face Shiro had never seen him make before, and he felt his stomach drop before Adam even spoke.

"Is that what you think this is about? You think I don't trust you?" He shoved Shiro's hands off of his shoulders and took a step backward.

"You brought it up first!" Shiro insisted, stepping forward to close the gap.

"Because it proves you're going to leave," Adam said, his voice low and strained. "If you weren't going to meet your soulmate out there, he wouldn't _be_ your soulmate. That doesn't mean I'm worried about you falling in love with him."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is you're going to leave, Takashi! You're going to leave and you're not going to come back and I'm _not_ going to wait for you." Adam took another step backwards and turned away from Shiro. "I can't do it."

Seeing Adam turn his back on him made Shiro's chest ache, and he put his hand on Adam's shoulder, gently pulling to try and direct him back towards him. "Adam, it's going to be okay. I'll come back to you. I promise."

Adam didn't budge, and after a moment, he let out a long sigh. "I wish I could believe you."

"Adam--" Shiro started, but Adam interrupted him by pushing his hand off his shoulder.

"Just--go away, okay? I want to be alone for a while. I'll come tell you when dinner's ready."

Defeated, Shiro backed out of the kitchen in silence, and when he turned around, suddenly the apartment was dark, illuminated only faintly by distant purple lights. He quickly turned back towards the kitchen, but it was gone, and Adam was nowhere to be seen.

"Adam!" he called out, desperate for an answer.

"Shiro," answered a calm and even voice right behind him, but it wasn't Adam's.

Shiro awoke with a start and quickly pushed himself up into a seated position, nearly colliding with the alien crouched over him along the way. Ulaz. Right. His soulmate. After all these years, finally, in the flesh. Shiro couldn't say what, exactly, he'd been expecting, but it didn't feel like this was it. This tall, pale alien, all sharp angles and long limbs, with his blank yellow eyes and short fur, he was.... He wasn't _un_ attractive, Shiro supposed, but he couldn't help but feel vaguely disappointed. He'd been expecting some kind of spark, he guessed, some sort of immediate attraction, something comparable to how he felt about Adam, but as grateful as he felt towards Ulaz for freeing him, as excited as he was to finally have some answers about his soulmark, it didn't feel anything like love, and it didn't do anything to stop that vague unfulfilled feeling that had always haunted him.

What he definitely _hadn't_ been expecting was having to explain how soulmates worked to his soulmate. The possibility that it wouldn't be mutual, sure, he knew very well that that could happen, but for his soulmate to not have _any_ soulmark, not even any _concept_ of one, that just seemed absurd, like some kind of cosmic joke at his expense. A deserved one, after everything he'd put Adam through, he supposed. It looked like Adam had been right and he wouldn't be going back to Earth, after all. He could only hope Adam would understand if he knew the reason why.

"How long was I out?" he asked Ulaz.

"Not very long. I would have woken you sooner if I had noticed."

"Are we almost there?"

Ulaz nodded and stood up before moving towards the front of the ship. "We have arrived."

Shiro followed closely in his wake, and when he got close enough to make out the image on the viewscreen, his breath caught in his throat. Pictured there was a massive blue star, flanked by a pair of twin black holes. They pulled on the star in opposing directions, creating a swirling vortex of blue light. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before, a sight beyond his wildest imagination.

"It's beautiful," he whispered in awe. Ulaz glanced at him, and then glanced at the screen as he sat in the pilot's seat.

"I suppose it is," he said absently as he began to type on the keypad. Shiro leaned over his shoulder to take a closer look, but he couldn't make any sense of the alien text, so his interest soon shifted back to the star ahead. He was the first and only human to ever see anything like this in person, it occurred to him, and a thought that would once have brought him great joy now made his chest feel tight. Sam and Matt should be seeing this, too. He didn't know where they were right now. Ulaz had told him that he hadn't seen them. He didn't even know if they were still alive. He hoped they were, as hard as he possibly could, but he had no way of knowing. It was a terrible feeling.

"We are in luck," Ulaz announced. "The way will be open in a few doboshes."

Shiro wasn't sure what a dobosh was, but that wasn't the part of the announcement that most caught his attention. "We're going in there? That's a blue supergiant. It doesn't get much hotter than that. Can this ship stand up to that kind of heat?"

"It should," Ulaz answered.

" _Should?_ "

"That is why we have to wait. It is only safe to approach the base between solar flares."

It was a hell of a security system, he had to admit. "Okay. How long is a dobosh?"

"50 ticks."

"Aaaaand how long is a tick?"

With a few key presses, Ulaz brought up a new window in the view screen. Even though Shiro couldn't read the alien numbers, it was clearly a countdown of some sort. "This is how long we have left until the way opens," Ulaz explained. He pointed at the numbers on the far right. "These are ticks."

Shiro intently watched the steadily changing numbers. It looked like a tick was slightly longer than a second, and, from the pattern of when the numbers changed, it looked like Galra also counted in base-10, which was a relief. He studied the countdown carefully, trying to commit the shape of the digits to memory. 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0. 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0.

"It's time," Ulaz said when the countdown completed, and he pushed the ship forward. Shiro didn't dare speak a word on the trip in, but despite his concerns, their ship endured the heat and they reached their destination without issue. The base was built into an asteroid tucked in close to the star, and Ulaz guided their ship carefully into a hangar that closed swiftly behind them. Shiro followed him out of the ship and took in the view of the base before he climbed down. It seemed architecturally similar to the Galra ships he'd been on before, what little he'd seen of them, but the lighting here was a cooler, bluer shade than the harsh, redder purple that lit the Galra ships.

More interesting than the architecture, though, was the people. At least, Shiro assumed they were people and not like the robots he'd encountered on the Galra ship. They didn't have any obvious joints like the robots, but they were all wearing eerie faceless masks and none of them spoke or moved as he and Ulaz left the ship. Ulaz didn't pay them much mind as he strode confidently through the hangar, and Shiro made sure to stay close on his heels. The last thing he wanted was to get lost alone in an unfamiliar place, and Ulaz clearly knew exactly where he was going. He took them through winding hallways and down an elevator, where they reached an austere, open room. In the air above them hovered a holographic symbol that matched the one on Ulaz's blade, and at the end of the room was a raised dais.

There were two people in the room already. One, standing off to the side, was easily twice as large as any other alien Shiro had seen yet. The other, standing at military ease on the dais, was probably the Blade of Marmora's leader, given his position and the sash that decorated his uniform. Shiro wondered if he should bow or salute or something, but Ulaz made no such movements, so he didn't. He kind of wished he was wearing something more presentable than the tattered slave uniform he'd been forced into, though.

"Kolivan," Ulaz said in greeting.

"Ulaz," the leader replied. "You abandoned your mission and brought a stranger to our headquarters. Explain yourself."

"I had no choice. My cover was irreparably compromised. This is Shiro. His species has a unique trait that causes them to manifest markings that describe a specific person. In his case, they describe me."

"Show me," Kolivan ordered.

" _Excuse_ me?" Shiro blurted out. Ulaz turned to stare at him, and Shiro quickly realized he would have to actually explain his offense. "Soulmarks are usually kept secret. I can't show it to just anyone. It's considered a violation of your privacy." It wasn't unheard of for couples to agree to stop covering their soulmarks once they'd found each order, but that option had never been on the table for Shiro. If he'd been mutual with Adam, maybe, but that wasn't the case, so he'd never really considered it. He'd never had the luxury.

"I am far less concerned about Kolivan seeing it than I am about all the people who have seen it already," Ulaz said flatly.

It was a fair point, honestly. If Ulaz trusted these people, then he didn't really have a reason to refuse to show his soulmark. Even if it _did_ go against his most heavily ingrained habits. "Fine," Shiro grumbled, and reached for his sleeve, but Ulaz interrupted him.

"The back will be a more effective demonstration," he said. Right. The sword. Of course. Well, at least that freed Shiro from the burden of fighting off the impulse to avoid eye contact. He pulled off the ratty shirt he'd be given, if it could even be called that, and turned around so Ulaz could handle however it was that the undersuit fastened.

The time that passed while the Blades looked at his soulmark felt like an eternity to Shiro, as he stared at the wall and willed himself not to shiver under the combined force of having his skin exposed to the cold air and the eerie feeling of unseen gazes on his back. In truth, it couldn't have been more than a few seconds before the suit was closed again and Shiro was free to turn around again and pull his shirt back on.

"His other markings provide enough information to connect him to me even from just the information the Empire possesses. I was already under suspicion when I took Shiro and fled," Ulaz explained. Shiro couldn't see any of Kolivan's face through his mask, but he didn't have to to know the Blade's leader wasn't happy about the situation.

"You have compromised the security of our base by bringing him here," the massive Blade in the corner growled, and Shiro nearly jumped out of his skin. Despite the Galra's considerable size, he'd almost forgotten he was there.

"It would have been no safer to leave him with the Empire," Ulaz retorted.

"Be that as it may, you should not have brought him here," Kolivan said. "He needs to go back where he came from."

"I'm _not_ going home," Shiro interjected without hesitation. All three of the Galra in the room turned to look at him, but he refused to back down. "My crew is still in captivity. I can't go back without them. Even if they weren't, I can't turn my back on the rest of the Empire's victims. Let me help you. I'll do whatever you need me to do."

"Unfortunately for you, we do not need you for anything," Kolivan answered.

"We need him to stay out of the Empire's grasp," Ulaz said. "The most effective way to ensure that is to keep him here where we can monitor him."

The massive Galra suddenly spoke up again. "The most effective way would be to kill him."

"We will not be doing that," Kolivan answered before Shiro could even fully register what was just suggested, though that still only did so much to quell the unease he felt once it sunk in. It wasn't the sort of comment that inspired feelings of safety, to say the least. Kolivan continued without much pause, "Antok, find a room for him to stay in for now. I have more to discuss with Ulaz."

"Hold on, you can't cut me out of this conversation," Shiro protested.

"It does not concern you," Kolivan said, and before Shiro could protest further, the massive Blade--Antok, apparently--grabbed him by the arm and hauled him off. Shiro couldn't say he was thrilled to be placed in the care of someone who had only just suggested murdering him, but he didn't really have a choice but to trust that Antok would follow his leader's orders. At least he let go of his arm once they were in the elevator. Shiro rubbed his shoulder and eyed the Galra up. He didn't feel good about his chances if Antok decided it'd be best to kill him after all. It made him wish he hadn't left that gun on the ship, but he seriously doubted that Antok would make a detour for it if he asked.

Antok didn't seem likely to make any sort of detour at all. After leaving the elevator, he went straight to a terminal, and once he was done with it, he continued walking down the hallway, all without so much as a word or glance in Shiro's direction. He walked quickly, and Shiro had to hustle just to keep pace with him. Which was still preferable to being dragged or carried, but Shiro was getting pretty tired of being even metaphorically dragged around without much explanation. Eventually, Antok stopped at a door and opened it.

"Here," he announced, as he stepped away from the doorway. Cautiously, Shiro entered the room.

The door shut behind him.

Immediately, he spun around and hit the button to reopen it. It slid back open, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Poking his head out into the hallway confirmed that Antok was walking back in the direction they'd come from, and Shiro decided to let him go. He'd paid close attention to the path they were taking on the way here, and he was confident that he could find his way back to where they'd spoken to Kolivan or the hangar on his own. For now, he wanted to take stock of his new quarters.

It was a small room, scarcely large enough for the single bed it contained. At first, Shiro was a little surprised that such a utilitarian room had such a large bed in it, until he realized that while two humans could comfortably fit on it, two Galra definitely wouldn't. A Galra and a human might both fit, but Shiro quickly pushed that thought from his mind. That wasn't going to happen.

There was a closet, as well, but it was empty. Which was a shame, because Shiro could have really used a change of clothes, but he supposed that even if there were any clothes, they probably wouldn't fit him. He didn't see anything else to check, so he sat down on the edge of the bed and began stretching his hand. The Galra had taken his electro-stimulator bracelet when they captured him, and his medicine was still back in the ship on Kerberos. These stretches couldn't do much to offset the progression of his disease, but right now, they were all he had. He needed to hide his disease from the Blade as long as possible. They were already so resistant to the idea of him being useful to them, if they found out he was sick, too.... He couldn't afford that. He couldn't let them keep him out of the fight. He had to prove himself.

He couldn't do that staying here. No one had told him to stay put, so he decided to go do something productive instead. A base like this was sure to have a shooting range he could practice at, he just needed to go recover his gun and then find someone he could ask for directions. He didn't cross paths with anyone on the way to the elevator, but on the way up, the elevator stopped, and Ulaz boarded it. He seemed as surprised to see Shiro as Shiro was to see him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and when Shiro explained, he nodded. "I will show you the way."

"Thank you," Shiro said. "How was your talk with Kolivan?"

Ulaz considered this question for a moment before answering. "It was interesting. I have much to think about."

Shiro wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Maybe it was neither? But before he could ask, the elevator arrived at the hangar, and Ulaz exited it without hesitation. Once Shiro recovered his gun from the ship, they returned to the elevator and got off on a different floor than the one that held Shiro's new quarters. Ulaz kept a brisk pace, leaving Shiro to work to keep up once again, and he made no attempts at starting a conversation. It made Shiro wonder a bit, if he was being actively shunned or if Galra on the whole simply weren't much for conversation. Either way, it was tiring, and Shiro wanted to talk, especially with Ulaz. There was so much he wanted to ask Ulaz, but he couldn't, not yet, not without freaking him out. But he could at least get him used to the idea of conversations with him.

"How long have you been working for the Blade of Marmora?" he asked.

Ulaz looked back at him with what might have been confusion? His expression was hard to read. But he did give Shiro an answer. "From the beginning. I am one of the Blade's founding members."

"How long have you been operating?"

"We have been working against Zarkon's rule for 7,000 years."

Ulaz had told him that he was around 11,000 years old, so that meant he'd been working for the Blade for most of his life. He'd known from the size of the sword on his soulmark that it represented something of great importance--it took up more space than most people's _entire_ soulmarks, after all--but this new context managed to make it seem _under_ sized. 7,000 years. He couldn't even imagine. That was longer than the whole of known human history, he was pretty sure. It definitely meant that Ulaz had been fighting this war since before Shiro's ancestors had even set foot on Japan's shores, much less on America's. Shiro was confident in his choice to join the cause, but he was suddenly keenly aware of all the context he was missing.

"Can you tell me more about the Empire's history and the rebellion?"

"It is a long story. I would not finish before we reached the shooting range."

Ulaz said more after that, but it didn't fully register with Shiro, who was suddenly distracted by the distinct feeling of his hand cramping up and the loud clatter of his gun hitting the floor. Oh no. Not an attack. Not right now. Not in front of Ulaz. He quickly bent down to scoop the gun back up with his left hand and hoped it was quick enough to avoid suspicion. At best, he knew this would make him seem clumsy, but clumsy was better than sick. Clumsy made him flawed, not a liability. He could deal with clumsy.

"Sorry," he said as he straightened back up. He hoped desperately that any pain that made it through to his face despite his efforts to suppress it would be mistaken for distress over his clumsiness, because Ulaz had stopped to look back at him. "I think I'd benefit more from the history lesson than the shooting range right now. I already know how to fire a gun." And he wouldn't be _able_ to fire a gun until this cleared up, but, of course, he wasn't about to mention _that_ part.

Ulaz was frowning at him, but that alone didn't tell Shiro whether or not he bought it. "Come with me," he instructed as he walked past Shiro, back the way they'd came, and Shiro decided to take the lack of questions as a good sign. At least, until Ulaz led him into what was clearly a sick bay. That--that didn't necessarily mean anything. Ulaz was a doctor, he knew that, so it made sense that he'd pick a sick bay as a comfortable place for an extended conversation. At least, until Ulaz pulled a handheld device from a cabinet and scanned Shiro with it, before Shiro even had a chance to protest.

He could run for it. He knew how to get back to the hangar from here, and he knew how to fly the ship they'd arrived in. But he dismissed those thoughts almost as soon as he had them. Even if he could get all the way to the hangar without Ulaz or anyone else catching him--unlikely--he didn't know if the way out of the base was safe right now. He was stuck.

"What was that?" he asked, trying to keep his nervousness out of his voice.

"A medical scanner," Ulaz answered, keeping his gaze fixed on the device's display. He clearly didn't like what he saw, as his usual frown grew deeper. "This is worse than I'd thought."

"Please don't tell Kolivan," Shiro immediately blurted out. "I can still be useful, I swear. I need to--"

"You need treatment," Ulaz interrupted. "Do you understand what will happen if you don't receive any?"

"Of course I do," Shiro answered. Without any treatment, he'd be dead in just a few years. But he'd rather spend those few years fighting as hard as he could than have an eternity without his freedom. "There's more at stake here than just my life. Kolivan already wants to get rid of me. I can't give him another reason."

"This is not something you could hide for long, and Kolivan would never trust you again once he learned. It is best to tell him now. I do not have everything I need for your treatment here, and we will need his permission to acquire the necessary supplies."

"What if he says no?"

"He won't. There is no denying that allowing this disease to progress unchecked will simply make you a greater liability, even if he doesn't yet see that you can be useful."

Oh.

It had been subtle, but it hadn't escaped Shiro's notice that Ulaz just admitted he believed Shiro could be useful, even knowing about his disease. Shiro couldn't help but feel a slight warmth spread over him at the realization. If nothing else, he had Ulaz in his corner. If nothing else, he had his soulmate's support. That alone made the whole situation feel that much more surmountable. That was enough.


End file.
